


Bring Him Home

by yopumpkinhead



Category: Books of the Raksura - Martha Wells
Genre: Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 04:28:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7344916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yopumpkinhead/pseuds/yopumpkinhead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Celadon hadn't thought much about the first letter from Emerald Twilight, asking about Opal Night's eastern colony. </p>
<p>The second letter from Emerald Twilight changed everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bring Him Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pentapus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pentapus/gifts).



> You asked for "a scene (or missing scene) from the books from the perspective of a character other than Moon. [Alternatively,] Malachite. Moon. My two very favorites. Just give me something about one of them." So here's a missing scene about Malachite, from Celadon's perspective. Hope you enjoy!

Celadon stared at the letter in her hand.

_I apologize in advance for the sensitive nature of this question, but as you asked the reason for my curiosity, I must raise it. Was there, among those lost in the destruction of your eastern colony, a fledgling consort called Moon?_

Such a simple question, and yet it made Celadon’s blood run cold, made her stomach flip-flop with… what, nerves? She wasn’t even sure, but her insides churned anyway. She forced herself to continue reading.

_Several months ago, my court was visited by the court of Indigo Cloud, themselves recently returned from the east. Their sister queen had taken as her consort a solitary called Moon, who claimed no knowledge of his bloodline or court, having fended for himself since he was a fledgling. While it has been some time since I have had the pleasure of visiting Opal Night, I believe he might be of your bloodline._

The rest of the letter was pleasantries and formalities and Celadon barely read it. _Moon_. She knew the names of her dead clutchmates: Dawn, the other queen; Moon, Forest, and Shiver, the consorts. _A consort called Moon._

Steady, the warrior who’d carried the letter up from the greeting hall where Emerald Twilight’s warriors were being welcomed, watched Celadon nervously. “Is everything all right?” she asked.

Celadon took a deep breath, forcing her spines to relax. “No,” she said, then shook her head. “Yes. I’m… this is unexpected news, is all.” She took another breath, trying to get her thoughts in order. Malachite would need to know, of course - would need to be the first person Celadon told, because the moment anyone else heard about it, the court would be wild with speculation. “Has anyone else read this letter?” she asked Steady.

“No,” Steady said immediately. “The Emerald Twilight warriors said it was to be read by a queen of the Opal Night bloodline only.”

Celadon nodded. It was lucky, then, that it had been mostly warriors of Malachite’s and Celadon’s own factions who’d happened to be nearest the greeting hall when the visitors had arrived. If one of Onyx’s warriors had gotten hold of the letter first, Onyx would have done her best to find a way to use it against Malachite. “Thank you,” she told Steady. “Do you know where Malachite is?”

Steady shook her head. “She probably knows we have visitors by now, though.”

Which meant that she was likely up in one of the higher levels that overlooked the central well, where she’d be able to spy on the visitors unseen. Celadon nodded again, tucked the letter into the jeweled belt slung around her hips, shifted to her winged form, and leaped up to hook her claws over the railing of the balcony above. She swung over the rail into the hallway that ran through the living quarters on this level, then bounded up several flights of stairs to the upper levels, where the Arbora kept some of the small orchards on platforms carved out of the colony tree’s inner walls.

It didn’t take her long to find Malachite. Celadon would never dare call her birthqueen _predictable_ , but even Malachite had habits, and Celadon found her hanging upside-down by her tail from a branch of one of the greenfruit trees the Arbora tended up here. It gave her a view, albeit somewhat obstructed by leaves and vines, down the central well to where, far below, the warriors from Emerald Twilight had just been escorted to the guest quarters.

Several Arbora, their arms and legs smudged with dirt and mud and the greenish tint that came from handling the greenfruit, moved around the little orchard, clearly returning to their work after having stopped to watch the visitors. Several of them glanced at Celadon when she appeared in the doorway that led out onto the orchard platform; she made an effort to keep her expression and her spines neutral. If the Arbora thought she was upset about something, they would start talking, and she didn’t want to know what kind of wild stories they might come up with.

Turning back to Malachite, she found her birthqueen staring at her, dark green eyes questioning. Celadon said, “I’d like to speak to you.” She didn’t have to say _in private_ ; if she hadn’t wanted privacy she would have simply started talking.

Malachite considered her for a moment, then dropped lightly to the ground. She brushed past Celadon and led the way down to the queens’ hall. The room she chose was a small, comfortable chamber intended for private audiences; it was currently empty and quiet. Malachite stopped in the middle of the chamber and cocked her head at Celadon.

Celadon took a deep breath. “You, um… You might want to sit down.” Her stomach was fluttering again, and her voice wanted to stick in her throat. She respected her birthqueen, cared about her - but she had no idea how Malachite would react to the news. Trying to find the words to tell her was terrifying.

Malachite’s tail twitched, the only outward sign of her impatience. She didn’t sit down.

“Right,” Celadon said. She pulled the letter from her belt and held it out to Malachite. “Ice from Emerald Twilight responded.”

Malachite took the letter but didn’t unfold it. She was watching Celadon more closely now, and Celadon could feel the tension thrumming through her. Probably Malachite was picking up on Celadon’s own emotions, enough to be wary of what she was about to tell her.

“Ice thinks she saw a consort of our bloodline,” Celadon blurted. “A consort named Moon who grew up in the east.”

For a few seconds Malachite didn’t react at all, and Celadon’s gut twisted - had she got it wrong, had she overestimated the importance of the news, was she—

Then Malachite sat down hard on the floor, missing the seating cushions entirely, her spines clattering against the stone. “Moon?” she whispered.

Celadon nodded. “Ice said he claimed he grew up alone. A solitary.”

Malachite unfolded the letter, her claws shaking. Celadon had never in her life seen her so rattled, and it scared her. Malachite had always been unflappable, a silent iron-willed presence at the very heart of the court. _Nothing_ upset her, ever, yet now she sat there, breath rasping unevenly in her throat as she read the letter. Celadon’s scales itched with the urge to _move_ , to _do_ something, to restore balance to a universe that had suddenly gone sideways. She reached for the little tea set that sat near the hearth and began to make tea, trying to calm herself.

The tea was done and Celadon was pouring two cups when Malachite finally set down the letter. She offered one of the cups to Malachite, who stretched forward to take it and then settled back, this time managing to end up on one of the seating cushions. Celadon could practically see her pulling herself back together, wrapping that impossible control around herself like a blanket.

_No_ , Celadon thought. _Not a blanket. Like armor._

“My fledgling is alive,” Malachite said. She took a sip of tea, her expression blank, her spines flat, though Celadon could see tension in them and knew she was making an effort to keep them that way. “Moon is alive.”

“So it seems,” Celadon agreed. Hearing Malachite say it felt different than reading it in the letter. _My clutchmate is alive_ , she thought, and felt a sudden surge of wonder. She met Malachite’s eyes. “What should we do?”

Malachite’s gaze hardened, her tail lashing once, scales whispering over stone. “We bring him home,” she said flatly.

“But…” Celadon protested. “Ice said he was taken by a queen.”

“Queens don’t take solitaries,” Malachite said.

“This one did,” Celadon said. “I don’t know much about Indigo Cloud, but it sounds like they’re small and struggling. She might have wanted a consort more than she cared about his bloodline.”

“Desperate,” Malachite said, her voice dropping dangerously. “She _used_ him.”

“Malachite—” Celadon began.

Malachite hissed, sharp enough that Celadon flinched back. “She has no right to him,” she snarled, slamming the teacup on the floor hard enough that ceramic chips flew. “ _I_ do. He’s _my_ blood.” She surged up off the floor and began to pace, her tail twitching as if she was keeping it from lashing by main will. “We bring him home,” she said again.

Celadon bit her lip. “It might not be easy,” she pointed out. “If they’ve clutched—”

“We’ll deal with it,” Malachite said coldly.

“All right,” Celadon said. It wouldn’t be that easy and they both knew it, but Ice’s letter hadn’t mentioned anything about a clutch and Indigo Cloud had only just moved to the Reaches, so maybe they’d get lucky and Moon hadn’t had a chance to give the queen a clutch yet. But that wasn’t the only concern. “What about…” She hesitated. “The mentors’ visions?”

Malachite stopped pacing. It had been months since the mentors had first scryed the imminent arrival of Fell, and Opal Night had been on alert ever since, watching for signs of Fell in the Reaches. The mentors had kept scrying, but all they’d been able to make out was that the Fell flight that was coming would hold the answers to Opal Night’s most heartfelt question: _why?_ Why had the Fell attacked the eastern colony? Why had they carried off Malachite’s consort Dusk and used him to create crossbreeds? What had they wanted?

All the signs indicated that something would happen soon, and it seemed crazy to take on the task of rescuing Moon when the Fell could turn up at any moment. But Malachite had never exactly been reasonable where the Fell were concerned. Or anything relating to Dusk, which included the fledglings he’d given her. She met Celadon’s eyes, her dark green gaze steady and hard as iron. “Moon should be here when the Fell come,” Malachite said. “The Fell are responsible for what happened to him. Whatever that might be. He should be here when we learn the answers.”

Celadon nodded slowly. She thought maybe Malachite was right. Certainly if Celadon had been the one to grow up a solitary because of the Fell, she’d want to know why. Though it was hard to imagine. How _did_ you grow up a solitary? She and Moon and their other clutchmates had been so young when the Fell attacked. Too young for Moon to have simply escaped and survived on his own. Someone must have cared for him, but who? Another Raksura? A _groundling_?

“What if he’s…” Celadon started, then stopped, struggling for words. “What if he’s not… If he’s…”

“Feral?” Malachite said, the word emotionless. “Damaged?”

“If he grew up alone, away from a court,” Celadon said. “Would he even know…” She waved her hands vaguely, floundering. “Anything?”

Malachite’s tail lashed again, her spines rippling as she resumed pacing. “A queen is trying to claim him,” she pointed out. “Even a desperate court wouldn’t risk taking a consort who couldn’t meet their needs.”

Celadon flicked a spine in reluctant agreement. “Granted, a desperate court might have lower standards than a—”

Abruptly she was flat on her back on the ground in her Arbora form, Malachite looming over her, claws digging into her shoulders just hard enough to let her know they were there. “He’s _mine_ ,” Malachite hissed, and there was something terrifying in her dark green eyes. Celadon’s breath stuck in her throat, and she wondered if this was how Malachite had looked when she’d destroyed the Fell flight who’d killed her consort. “He’s _mine,_ and he’s _fine_.”

“All right!” Celadon said, her voice a little too high. She held up her hands, claws sheathed, as best she could under the crushing weight of Malachite’s fury. “I’m sorry!”

Malachite stayed there a second longer, just enough to make her point. Then she moved, a single bound that carried her to the other side of the room. Celadon sat up slowly, shaking out her spines and resettling her jewelry, trying to get her heart to stop racing. She should have known better than to raise the issue. Malachite had brought back half-Fell crossbreeds because they’d been fathered by Dusk, and she’d raised them as Raksura just to spit in the eye of the dead Fell who’d created them. Of course she would expect that her own offspring, Dusk’s clutch, would turn out just as well.

“Go get Lithe,” Malachite said, her voice making Celadon jump. “We’ll send a letter back to Emerald Twilight with their warriors. They’ll bring Moon to us.”

Celadon nodded. Lithe would help with the letter, but she could also scry with this new information, help them prepare for Moon’s arrival. It also meant that Malachite was going to tell the rest of the court, because what one Arbora knew, the entire court would know in short order. Celadon started to turn to leave, then hesitated. “Are you all right?” she asked quietly.

Malachite didn’t answer for a long time, long enough that Celadon began to think she wasn’t going to. But finally she said, very quietly, “Moon is alive.” She met Celadon’s eyes. “Moon is alive, and he’s coming home.”

It wasn’t exactly an answer, but it wasn’t exactly not an answer, either. Moon was alive, and that meant that Malachite had one fewer thing to hate the Fell for. Her hatred had sustained her for forty turns after she’d lost almost everything, and Celadon wasn’t sure what would happen if she had to let some of it go. She wasn’t sure Malachite knew what would happen, either.

But they would find out.

They were bringing Moon home.


End file.
